The Longing
by BtrixMcG
Summary: Set after Death of the Queen Bee. Booth struggles to forget the dance. Super angsty and a little smutty.  Please read and review.


He was never going to be able to sleep. That he knew. After several hours of tossing and turning he might as well accept it. It seemed everything around him was conspiring to drive him crazy. The sheets were too scratchy, the air too humid, there was too much light in the room. Wearily, he got up, closed the curtains, flicked on the AC and fell back into bed. But he knew his problem wasn't the bed or the air or the light. His problem was Bones.

His mind kept wandering back to the last few days, to what happened between them. To the dance. To when she, heedless of his warning, pressed herself against him for a slow dance. At first he tried to make light of it. It was Seal playing after all, singing one of the sexiest songs ever recorded. It was natural that she would move closer to him. Really, wasn't keeping arm's distance kind of silly? They must have looked like Barbie and Ken dolls in an awkward embrace.

He had tried to tell her, in the nicest way possible not to tease him. She seemed to understand, but when the song began, she forgot the assurances she had just made. She moved into his arms so fluidly, so gracefully, at first he wasn't even sure it was really happening. His hands, of their own accord, softly came to rest around her waist as her head settled on his shoulder. As they danced, he could feel her trying to move closer, wanting to feel his warmth, pressing her body against his. He moved away as best he could without making it seem obvious. He couldn't hide how much he wanted her, especially if she moved closer. It would be very obvious. But they kept the conversation light. Kept it the way it should be now that she had made it clear she was not interested in a relationship.

He tried not to notice how tight her dress was, how good her hair smelled. Like strawberries, he thought at the time. Lying in bed he breathed in deeply wishing he could recreate her scent, the way her body moved against his. His thoughts drifted back to the dance, The song seemed to last forever, which was both a blessing and a curse. In a way, he couldn't wait to be away from her. It was impossible to control his body and the proximity to her and her dress and her scent was making it more and more obvious why he needed the damn song to end.

But those moments when she came too close, brushing against him, were exquisite. Her breasts would graze against his chest and he thought he could feel her nipples, rock hard and unyielding under her dress. Her hips would pulse forward on the downbeat, barely meeting his. He knew she felt his hardness and he imagined he could feel her heat. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to not clutch her hips and grind her against him.

Then the song ended and they broke apart abruptly, the spell the song cast broken. Their eyes met for a split second then shifted away, neither willing to admit anything out of the ordinary had happened. They walked back to the table, to their drink,s and five minutes later it was like nothing ever happened. Same ol' Bones, same ol' Booth.

He had walked her back to her room, careful to keep a good two feet of distance between them. But he didn't need to be worried. She kept her gaze directly in front of her or on the carpet below. She opened her door and marched straight in without looking back, throwing a "bye, see you tomorrow" over her shoulder. The door closed swiftly and he was left out in the hallway with its beige carpet and matching beige walls. His mood descended rapidly into beige as well as he trudged back to his own room for what he knew would be a sleepless night.

And now, here he was, lying on his bed in a t-shirt and boxers, sporting a painful erection, trying to get those piercing eyes, long brown hair and perfectly curvaceous body out of his head. He had never let himself fantasize about her. That would send him over the edge, he was sure. There would be no dating of anyone else, no moving on. He would rather die alone waiting for her. That's not going to happen, he thought. As long as I don't get too carried away, I'll be ok. I'll move on.

But his thoughts and his body were betraying him. All he could think of was kissing her neck just below her ear, running his hands past her shoulders, down her sides and cupping her ass in the palms of his hand, holding her against him. Peeling off that dress, bra, panties, until she was naked and totally his. His erection screamed out for relief. His hand strayed to stroke it and he sat up abruptly.

No, he thought. I can't do this. This is a pain I can't relieve. I have to live with it. I have to live with it.

He flopped back down and rolled over to his side. There would be no sleep tonight, but he would not give in.

_I have to live with the longing._


End file.
